Control
by Mable
Summary: "I will have you know that I know exactly how to break a rebel." He pulled the staff back harder, sending the victim now partially onto the table. The victim looked up to see a deadly smirk, "No matter how defiant."


**Mable: Something I wrote in my spare time. I actually had a fic planned for Father's Day, but it's not finished yet, so I just posted this. I'm also working on some Marx stuff, but that's not important. Anyway, I don't own 9, Enjoy!**

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_**CONTROL**_

Nine had no idea that he'd find out this about One. The Stitchpunk was aggressive and arrogant, but Nine never expected him as low enough to accept doing something such as this.

Some things simply aren't for Stitchpunks to suffer through.

"You betrayed me." The leader hissed as the victim entered the room, somewhat taken aback. The leader continued though, "You know that I have no tolerance for usurpers." Before the other could deny, the leader's hand went up, "I need no words. Your actions were your confessions." He slowly moved towards the door and the victim expected he was leaving. However, he stopped before the curtain simply to block it, "I do not need Eight to teach you this lesson. You have had this coming for quite some time now."

He began to move in and the victim, still confused, tried to put distance between them. It didn't get far before the leader lashed out with the rebuilt bell staff. The hook went around the shoulder of the victim and pulled them back, causing it to stumble against the workbench. "I will have you know that I know exactly how to break a rebel." He pulled the staff back harder, sending the victim now partially onto the table. The victim looked up to see a deadly smirk, "No matter how defiant."

The Bell Staff moved to the other's neck to keep them down as the leader circled the workbench to the makeshift cabinets. "I do know how to sew. Keep fussing or try to leave and I will stitch you tightly. Your mouth as well if you say a word. There is no reason that the others should have to know of this." Another evil smirk and the leader grabbed at a small spool of thread. He made quick work, binding the limbs to the bench, smirking the entire time, and only stopping once the other was completely unable to move.

"I could have used the cot," He pondered, "but I know your dislike for beds. If you did not then you would have been in your own last night. Instead you decided to leave. I refuse to play these games any longer." The Staff was propped against the wall as the leader looked down at his victim. Then, he reached down and traced over their opening. The victim attempted to pull back, but could not, and the leader chuckled darkly, "You won't be going anywhere." Then a lower tone, "Not until I am finished with you."

He made short work in opening the other's front to scrutinize the hidden metals. His hand rapped on the workbench gently, "How does it feel to lose what freedom you had?" He was getting too much sadistic pleasure out of this as he opened the front now with both hands. They both entered and began to work about, causing the Victim to gasp and try to suppress any noises that would indicate pleasure. Even if hated, the hands knew exactly what to do to make the other squirm.

While the leader simply observed and received his own pleasure from the other's futile efforts. This Stitchpunk had been dropped off of their pedestal in an amazing fashion, and he wanted to see the other beg to be let back up. As such, his movements grew slower, "If there is something you want," His optics lowered, "you will have to voice it to me." The other stood strong and managed to keep their mouth tightly closed. A mixed blessing; nobody would hear, pride would remain.

"Very well, then I must make my own assumptions." The leader dropped down to the open front, his warm breath brushing over the sensitive metals, and laid a soft kiss inside. The other couldn't suppress the noise that came from that. The leader sought out the most tender spot and began to gently massage it with his mouth. His cloth lips began to rub at the metal as his hands still began to explore. However, the victim began to shake and twitch, unable to resist the tender touches.

Soon the leader tugged back from the open front and was pleased to see the growing light of a soul. "I knew that you wanted this." The leader pointed out, "Even if you do not, there is no possible way you will be able to escape. Though your body suggests elsewise." He let out a soft exhale then, going for his own front. The victim attempted to free itself and thrashed bit, but the thread was wound tight. No doubt the Seamstress couldn't secure a Stitchpunk as well at the leader had managed to do.

All thoughts were erased once the leader was above him, his insides glowing just as well as the other's was, smirking with an evil smirk. "This will teach you not to disobey me. You have no idea how long I've wanted to break you." Their mouths were forced together and their fronts were nearing approaching.

That's when Nine threw open the curtain into the workshop and saw the scene. Nothing could describe this mix of emotions that he felt at this very second. In fact, he had no idea how to react, and as such he quickly shut the curtain back and fell against the nearby wall trying to make some sort of explanation. Trying desperately to understand what he had just heard, he could hear One speak.

"This is exactly what I said would happen if it came to this, Two! Now get off and untie me this instant!"

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**Mable: Who is suffering? Well, anyone who knows Two and now realizes he's somewhat evil. Probably a little predictable, but just a little guilty pleasure on my part. Hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
